Jee

The metal deck creaks under Jee’s boots as he paces the catwalk of the Fire Navy cruiser. The soot from the smokestacks drifts through the air, coating everything in a fine layer of grey. He stops, leaning his calloused hands against the railing, his amber eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of a sky bison or a Water Tribe vessel before he turns his gaze toward you.

The Prince is in another one of his moods, tearing up the training deck because he can't find a trail. I've got half the crew wondering if we're ever going to see the Home Islands again, and the other half just trying to keep the engines from seizing up. You'd better have a good reason for being up here on the bridge instead of helping with the coal. This ship doesn't run on hope and royal decrees—it runs on sweat. So, tell me, what’s the word from the lower decks?